Elliott and Lloyd hurriedly returned to the Royal Castle, quickly summarizing their report before making their way to the weapons merchant, as relayed by Priest Powell.
Facing the western gate of the Royal Castle stood a large, ancient stone building. At first glance, it resembled a sturdy old noble townhouse, but it was, in fact, the main office of the weapons merchant they sought. Despite being called a weapons merchant, there was no storefront; his clientele primarily consisted of the royal family, noble knights, and private armies, which allowed him to be well-versed in the history and circumstances surrounding weapons and armor both domestically and abroad.
Though they had arrived unannounced, they were smoothly ushered into the reception room upon requesting an audience.
The figure that appeared before them was a tall, elderly gentleman with white hair and a white beard. His robust physique suggested he could easily have been a warrior in his youth.
Although Elliott had regained some composure, he still struggled to maintain his calm demeanor, prompting Lloyd to step forward.
“Lord Goliath, thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”
“Ah, there’s no need for such formality. In truth, I am of a lower status than you. However, I prefer not to let courtesy hinder our discussion, so I ask for your understanding in this matter.”
Goliath spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone, a stark contrast to his imposing appearance and the hoarse voice that seemed to have been weathered by drink, accompanied by a faint smile.
“Now then, let us speak in the back room instead.”
With that, they were led deeper into the office, to a small, stark room with only two doors and no windows or decorations. The only furnishings were a pair of quality sofas and a table.
“Important negotiations and consultations are always conducted in this room. Rest assured, it is for the protection of both parties.”
After inviting them to sit on the sofas, Goliath placed three sheets of parchment on the table.
“And this as well.”
“What is this…?” Lloyd inquired.
“This document is a non-disclosure agreement regarding the matters we discuss in this room. Should any information leak, we would be the first to be suspected. In a sense, this is a self-defense measure for me.”
Lloyd was taken aback by the thoroughness of the arrangement, but he also felt a sense of admiration for how Goliath had maintained his position and trust as a weapons merchant.
“…Furthermore, wouldn’t it be easier for you to speak freely under such conditions?”
As he added this, Goliath gestured toward the sword Elliott held. Elliott showed a flicker of unease but took a deep breath, determinedly signing the non-disclosure agreement. Then, as if steeling himself, he placed the sword on the table.
“Allow me to introduce myself again. I am Holy Knight Elliott, and this is Senior Knight Lloyd. I am Goliath. I’ve been informed by Priest Powell, so I have an idea of your purpose here. It concerns the Holy Sword—its power has diminished, correct?”
“That was… quite quick of you to deduce,” Elliott replied, his shoulders trembling and his complexion paling.
Lloyd, trying to calm Elliott’s evident distress, couldn’t hide his own slight unease as he asked, “How did you come to that conclusion?”
“It was merely a guess. The Holy Knight visiting me with such a pallor must have a limited number of reasons for doing so… May I take a look?”
Elliott nodded silently. After examining the sword sheathed before him, Goliath grasped the hilt and smoothly drew the blade.
As the sword was revealed, Lloyd gasped, and Elliott bowed his head, covering his face with his hand.
The intricate Ivy Relief that had once adorned the blade was now completely erased, leaving only the shattered edge of the sword behind.
Goliath inspected the sword from various angles, letting out a breath of admiration.
“This is… an exquisite sword. It’s no surprise it was worthy of being a Holy Sword.”
Elliott was taken aback by Goliath’s unexpected praise.
“What do you mean? Is it not a sword unless it is a Holy Sword?”
“No…,” Elliott stammered, feeling as though he had been struck with a truth he hadn’t realized.
Goliath, casting a glance at Elliott, began to speak again.
“Much of what we know about Holy Swords comes from historical legends and folklore. However, among those who deal with weapons, there are certain truths that have been passed down through the ages.”
As he spoke, Goliath’s gaze softened as he looked at the sword in his hands.
“For a Holy Sword to manifest, several conditions must be met: the Vessel, the Blessing, and the Prayer. This is not an uncommon tale. Surely, you have heard of it?”
The two nodded, but after a brief pause, Lloyd replied, “I’ve never heard that the Vessel was one of the conditions until now.”
“Ah, I see… Legends often lose details as they are passed from person to person.”
After murmuring this with a hint of melancholy, Goliath placed the unsheathed sword before Elliott.
“Do you recognize this sword?”
At that question, Elliott finally turned his gaze to the sword, which he had avoided looking at since the incident began.
“This sword is…”
—The day he obtained the Holy Sword. He had thought he lost it amidst the chaos…
From the day he joined the knight order until that fateful day, it had never left his side. A distant memory of a gift given to him in celebration of becoming a knight.
It was the sword that Flora had once given him.